


counting only things i lost

by revolutionaries



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionaries/pseuds/revolutionaries
Summary: "To Aoba, there are two different versions of Mikado and reconciling them into one person is tough. There is the Mikado who stands in front of him now, and the Mikado who drove a pen straight through the flesh of Aoba's hand and watched with cold eyes as he yelled in pain. There is the Mikado who speaks so softly to Sonohara Anri and the Mikado who could bring the city to its knees with a single text message.He loves and fears them both."





	counting only things i lost

**Author's Note:**

> Contains very brief speculation & references to Aoba's childhood abuse by his brother.

**July 11, 4pm: A certain neighbourhood in Ikebukuro.**

 

Summer is in full swing this year. The cicadas sing in the trees of Mikado's neighbourhood and the air is thick and heavy with moisture. Sweat drips down the back of Aoba's neck as they make their way towards Mikado's tiny run-down apartment. The day is overcast, the clouds overhead promising rain soon. He could almost sigh from relief.

They talk mindlessly about school as they walk, about how Aoba's classes are going and problems with the other class reps in the school council. It's easy, simpler than Aoba ever thought speaking with Mikado would be. Mikado is a good listener who considers everything his conversation partner has to say and always tries to provide a solution for whatever problem they might be facing.

It's almost peaceful, the mundaneness of it all. Aoba swings his bag by his side as he walks and stares up at the dark clouds above.

"Hey, Aoba-kun," says Mikado suddenly.

Aoba tilts his head to show he's listening but otherwise doesn't answer.

"I was thinking, about the Dollars," he says. "Izaya-san said that—"

"You spoke to Orihara Izaya?" Aoba comes to a stop and Mikado does the same, turning so they're face to face. Aoba meets his gaze sharply and folds his arms over his chest, dropping his bag to the ground as he does so. "You didn't tell me that."

"Ah, well." Mikado smiles sheepishly and takes a step back. "I didn't think it mattered."

"Of course it matters." The bitterness that surges up in Aoba's chest isn't wholly unexpected but it stings regardless. He squeezes his arms across his body tighter. "When did this happen?"

"A few days ago," he replies. "Izaya-san called me. He just wanted to talk."

Aoba grits his teeth and tries not to wonder exactly when Mikado became on first name terms with him. "He wants to use you."

Mikado smiles, eyes bright. "Just like you, right, Aoba-kun?"

"I'm nothing like him," replies Aoba, anger suddenly bubbling hot and heavy in his chest. He clenches his fists and strides away. "Orihara is the type who—" Unconsciously, he thinks of his brother's face, the way it was before it was scarred almost beyond recognition. The image makes his hands tremble and sweat. He knew exactly what kind of person Orihara was without ever having to speak to him. "People like him should—"

Fortunately, Mikado seems to realise that was the wrong thing to say and backtracks. He waves his hands frantically in front of his face. "I'm sorry, Aoba-kun, I didn't—"

"It's fine," Aoba hears himself say, even though it's not. Even though the anger and odd detachment hasn't subsided and won't for a while. He stares at the back of his hands, darkened by the dying day and patterned by the shadow of a tree extending over the road.

He takes a long breath and walks back to where Mikado stands. Slowly, he lifts his right hand and presses it against the fabric of Mikado's white shirt until his fingers splay out and he can feel the material ripple between each one. Then he pushes. Not too hard, just enough that Mikado rocks onto his heels with the force of it.

He's looking at Aoba kindly, too kindly. This is the Mikado that Aoba told the rest of the gang bored him: this gentle, mild-tempered boy who is unassuming and easily flustered. He finds it somewhat ironic that this is the version of him he ended up needing the most.

To Aoba, there are two different versions of Mikado and reconciling them into the one person is tough. There is the Mikado who stands in front of him now, and the Mikado who drove a pen straight through the flesh of Aoba's hand and watched with cold eyes as he yelled in pain. There is the Mikado who speaks so softly to Sonohara Anri and the Mikado who could bring the city to its knees with a single text message.

He loves and fears them both. But he thinks he might just be a little more terrified of the Mikado who is kind than the one who agreed to a contract painted with Aoba's blood.

Gently, Mikado eases back and presses the tips of his own fingers against Aoba's. A question. Aoba doesn't pull away. Mikado entwines their fingers together and looks straight at him.

"It's not fine," says Aoba quietly.

"I really am sorry," he says sincerely. "Do you want to talk about it? I—"

"No!" Aoba says, his voice cutting clear through the muggy air. He forces a laugh and lets go of Mikado's hand. "No. Just—be careful around Orihara."

"I understand the kind of person Izaya-san is," he replies. "I'll be cautious the next time I speak to him."

Aoba sighs. It would amaze him if anyone could fully understand Orihara Izaya. "He's difficult to predict because he doesn't seem to have any real goals other than toying with others. He has nobody close to him and nobody he wants to protect."

"I don't think that's true at all," Mikado says in a quiet voice.

Aoba glances over at him. "Why?"

"I think Izaya-san does have somebody he cares very much about." Mikado's lips curve up into a small smile. "I mean – think about it. Izaya-san is the type who would use even his own sisters in his schemes, right? If he'd use them then there really are no limits to the people he will manipulate. He'll use people like me, Heiwajima-san, Kadota-san and his friends, and even Celty-san."

"But if he'd even use his sisters then—"

"But," Mikado continues, still smiling serenely. "If you think about it carefully, there's always one person who never really gets pulled into anything. One person who is always on the fringe. I think that person is who Izaya-san cares about more than anyone else."

"Tch." Aoba scowls. "So even Orihara gets to have somebody like that."

Imagining Orihara Izaya trying to protect somebody makes him feel sick to his stomach. Ever since he invaded Aoba's home and lied to his mother about his reasons for being there Aoba has disliked him. He knew immediately what kind of person Orihara was and it left a cloying metallic taste in his mouth. Like iron. Like blood. Aoba will lie and manipulate and smile sunnily until he gets what he wants but there are lines he'd never cross. Lines that he can tell someone like Orihara Izaya would breeze past.

Mikado laughs a little. "If it's any consolation I don't think that person feels the same way in return."

Kishitani Shinra is an enigma. Aoba thinks back to when he attempted to corner him and the Headless Rider outside of their apartment. Kishitani had spoken of Orihara then, while backing Aoba against a wall and holding a scalpel to his throat. He had mentioned him casually. There was no underlying meaning behind the words he had used and all Aoba can really recall is the frustration at being compared to Orihara so nonchalantly.

He can't help the spark of vicious triumph in his chest at the thought of Orihara being rebuffed by his only friend.

Mikado hadn't been lying when he said he understood Orihara. _How can you understand somebody like that so well?_ he wants to ask, but he has seen the icy fire that lies beneath Mikado's quiet exterior and he doesn't think he's ready for the answer to that question.

However, Mikado seems to have predicted the question from Aoba's sideways glance. "Izaya-san really… isn't so difficult to work out. He always says he loves humans so easily, so he does things to see what they do in different situations." He smiles. "He did it to me not long after we first met. He said something to me I won't ever forget. It's only because of that that I'm standing here with you now."

Aoba laughs suddenly, despite the subject matter.

Mikado tilts his head in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's nothing." Aoba shakes his head, still grinning. "You're so strange, Mikado-senpai."

"Ah, is that so?" Mikado laughs too and rubs the back of his neck.

"You understand a lot about people except the ones who are closest to you," he elaborates. "You're observant but you're still willing to let me and Orihara use you for our own gain. Even though you know exactly what we're doing, right?" He smirks. "That's really strange."

Mikado smiles again. "Well, I have certain goals I want to achieve too. This is the best way to do it. So if it works out for me in the end then I don't mind being used for the time being." He starts walking again and Aoba follows behind him. "But Aoba-kun—" He glances back. Aoba waits. "—When you want the Blue Squares back eventually, don't think I'll give up so easily."

Despite himself, a shiver runs through Aoba as he picks up his bag and catches up to Mikado and matches his pace.

There are those icy depths he was waiting for. He grins to himself and keeps moving.

 

 

**August 31, 6.30pm: An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Toshima Ward.**

The sun is starting to set over the city, filtering its way through the stained windows of the warehouse. Aoba sits perched on a crate next to a precariously positioned lamp that flickers and casts eerie shadows over the darkened corners of the building. A train rattles past and the room shakes with the vibrations. The quiet of the warehouse is again broken by the repetitive chiming of the level crossing nearby.

Mikado sits opposite him, one leg crossed over the other casually as he taps his notebook with a pen. "This won't work. We need to think of something else."

"I know." Aoba rubs a hand across his face and then leans backwards so he's staring at the ceiling. "It doesn't have to be tonight, though. We've been here for hours already. School starts again tomorrow. We can think of something afterwards."

Mikado shakes his head. "Once school starts I'm not going to have much time. I'd rather spend the time I do have actually putting things into motion rather than thinking up plans."

"What's the rush? We still have time. If we can get everyone together after school then we'd be able to think of something faster."

"No," says Mikado. "I want to do it as quickly as possible. We can't afford to wait. Just in case—"

Aoba's expression turns sour. They've been down this road before and the conversation never ends well.

Mikado gives a slight nervous laugh. "I guess you know what I'm going to say."

Aoba gets to his feet and crosses his arms. "This isn't about whatever you're trying to achieve for him. This is about the Blue Squares and the Dollars."

"I know that," says Mikado, calm as ever. "But both of our end goals are the same. You know the reason I started purging the Dollars in the first place, why I agreed to become the leader of the Blue Squares in the first place. We still need each other."

"Then put us first," Aoba replies obstinately.

Mikado only smiles while staring at his notepad. "You shouldn't order your leader around. It's bad form."

Aoba bites his tongue before he can say anything he'll regret. "Then choose us. Properly."

"I already chose you," says Mikado. "And the Blue Squares, and the Dollars."

"No you didn't." Aoba spits out the words like they're poison. His eyes sting as he stares at the ground. He wants to meet Mikado's gaze, to put an end to that easily flustered persona, to assert himself - but the words he's longed to say for weeks have abandoned him now. All he can do is swallow and re-route his way around what he wants to say. "You chose us _for now_."

Mikado hesitates. "I'm not sure what you me—"

Aoba doesn't need to look at him to know he's lying. For once he wishes Mikado would get angry instead of dealing with everything in such a calm manner.

"What do you think is going to happen when Kida Masaomi comes back to Ikebukuro? Because from where I'm standing it seems very clear. You've spent all this time working towards making this place somewhere that he wants to come back to, haven't you? You're working so hard to purge the Dollars until they become your ideal. But you made a miscalculation, Mikado-senpai."

Finally, he looks up to find Mikado staring at him steadily. Patiently.

"It was never Ikebukuro that Kida Masaomi was running from."

The smile that forms on Mikado's face is wry and self-deprecating. "I know."

"Then you know he'll only come back when he's ready to face you again, no matter what you do for him."

"I know." His smile doesn't waver.

"And you're willing to wait for him – for as long as it takes?" Aoba takes a breath to calm his racing heart before continuing. "You'll wait - even though he might never come back?"

He nods. "I made a promise after all. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't keep it?"

"You're—" Aoba cuts himself off and steps back. The rays of the setting sun fall in distorted rectangles through the dirtied warehouse windows. It glints off Mikado's eyes and even though there's just one year between them in age, at that moment Aoba feels years younger than Mikado. There's a level of patience and peace with his own decision in his eyes that only comes with such a level of self-assuredness and Aoba knows he'll never catch up to that.

He doesn't know Kida Masaomi personally, only about the things he did as part of the Yellow Scarves and the little scraps of information he gets from Mikado. He knows Kida Masaomi is a coward who would rather disguise his emotions with laughter than deal with them and the consequences of his actions. He knows Kida Masaomi appears to be careless around his friends but privately does everything he can to protect them. He knows Kida Masaomi likely has feelings for Mikado even if Mikado isn't sure of that himself.

He doesn't know Kida Masaomi personally and yet in that moment he _hates_ him. He has everything Aoba wants and doesn't even acknowledge it. It disgusts him to his core.

"I'm going home," he says, tilting his chin up in the only show of defiance he has left. "I'll see you at school, Mikado-senpai."

As he leaves, Mikado says his name quietly from behind him.

Aoba turns, tilting his head. "What? Make it quick."

"I'm sorry," says Mikado, a little wistfully. It echoes in the empty warehouse, too quiet.

In response, Aoba gives him a curt nod. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," he replies.

Aoba doesn't look back.

 


End file.
